


Tsunawatari

by ghxsttype113



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Canon, Angst, Dialogue Heavy, M/M, Mental Instability, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, only slightly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2018-11-07 05:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11052591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghxsttype113/pseuds/ghxsttype113
Summary: It's been three years since the events of Inaba. Tohru Adachi was excused from trial due to lack of cohesive evidence and lives a seemingly reserved and reclusive life. Yu Narukami is tasked by the investigation team to keep watch over Adachi, as much to his dismay.Upon seeing each other weekly, they learn more about each other than they'd ever thought they would.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry to say, but this is a fic that won't have consistent updates. As much as I'd like to stick to a schedule, I'm both too busy and have a tendency to rewrite chapters like 5 times.
> 
> Anyway, hope you like this fic. I've been wanting to write it for a while.

    They sat across from each other, silence deafening the air of the too-small apartment with only the sound of a too-small automatic fan blowing away the stuffed, hot summer air. His gray eyes pierced through his visitor, causing the victim to look down at his cup and shift his weight.  
  
    Uncomfortable. Good. He should be. This is a waste of time, after all.  
  
    "So," Tohru Adachi broke the silence, leaning backward, hand reaching back to grab his neck's nape, "what you mean to say is that you've given babysitter duty?"  
  
    Yu Narukami looked up, "Funny," he said, face still, "but you could say that. It is more of a precaution than anything else." He set his cup of water onto the low table, "If you've been following our deal, you have nothing to worry about. But-"  
  
    A humorless laugh, "I know, I get it. No sugar coating, I can read between the lines. You don't trust me." He straightened his posture, eyes burning into his visitor's, small smile creeping onto his face as Narukami calmly averted his gaze.  
  
    Adachi wanted more than anything to make him uncomfortable just so that he would just leave already. He was tired of talking; he was tired of just having to speak to people in general. With that, the thought of the whole situation unfolding before him bothered the living hell out of him.  
  
    Rolling his eyes, he spoke again, "About this checking in every week thing, though, I don't think I like that."  
  
    "It's precaution." Narukami replied, voice even.  
  
    "Precaution, yeah. Then why 'precaution' now? It's been three years. Did you guys watch me in the shadows or just bug my phone between that time gap?"  
  
    "No, we didn't."  
  
    "Is that a 'no' to the peeping tom thing or 'no' to the bugging."  
  
    "No to the bugging."  
  
    "I was joking about all of that. I don't like that answer."  
  
    "Again, it was precaution."  
  
    With an agitated groan, Adachi leaned back in his chair. This whole situation pissed him off. It just pissed him off. While it surprised him none that he was still being haunted by his past mistakes in the form of the self-proclaimed high school detectives, there was just no way that these 'precautions' would piss him off any less.  
  
    Turns out that claiming your murder weapon was a portal into a T.V. Narnia of monsters and death was less considered a truthful confession and more of a ticket to a mental hospital for a couple of months. Annoying. It also turns out that retracting your past true and honest statements and replacing them with a more believable "I killed them and placed them onto T.V. antennas like some sick Halloween slasher flick villain" was considered to claim that "lacked in tangible evidence" to be taken seriously, especially without the existence of a believable murder weapon.  
  
    To put the icing on the showcase of the cooking show of fuckery, his entire trial was bizarre and worthy enough to be broadcasted nationally. Going from a guy who barely stuck out to a guy everyone knows was pretty strange. The people all thought he was a goddamn nutcase, however, making it simply not a nice "pretty strange" but rather "this guy is a psychopath that is now roaming the streets" or whatever. He ended up being released after various psyche analyses, but his name tarnished beyond repair.  
  
    He would have preferred being incarcerated, locked behind bars rotting away of his already miserable life and would never forgive the court system for being run by absolute morons.  
  
    "Ahem," Narukami coughed, bringing Adachi's attention back onto him "do Friday afternoons sit well with your schedule?"  
  
    A sigh, Adachi fiddled with his now empty coffee mug, "No. I work."  
  
    "Friday evenings?"  
  
    "No, I still work. Different job." his finger traced the chipped ridges of the mouth.  
  
    "I see. When do you not work, then?"  
  
    "I always work. Any idea how hard it is to find a good job after being on trial for murder?" a glare, Yu shook it off.  
  
    "Well, if you don't have free time... why are you home right now?"  
  
    A piece of the mug chipped off under his fingernail, "Maybe I have work later--"  
  
    "You don't." Yu interrupted.  
  
    Adachi's eyes went wide, "... and why do you say that so... knowingly?" his voice was careful, questioning, suspicious.  
  
    "Well," Yu took out a small notebook from his breast pocket, "according to these notes given to me by a valuable source... you have two jobs, one at a gas station and one as a small store nearby. You don't work on Mondays, which is today, at all. You don't go to work on Fridays even though you're always scheduled to work then, you always end up calling favors with other workers. You sneak off on Sundays to--"  
  
    "Alright, alright, enough of that!" he was aggravated, caught, and afraid, "Geez, stop stalking me."  
  
    "These meetings are in place to stop us from doing that."  
  
    The longest most exaggerated sigh was released from Adachi as he sunk back into his seat, "By any chance, is this because I caught one of your dumbass friends following me home every night and confronted him on it. Because I chewed him out and threatened to call someone about it, you're trying to do this all... professionally and shit, now. It was that one kid. The one with the bleached hair, headphones, and annoying face."  
  
    "I cannot say."  
  
    "Fuck him. Fuck that guy."  
  
    "Are Mondays fine, then?" Narukami pushed calmly.  
  
    "Whatever. Fine. Go for it. Intrude on my Mondays. Write your shitty reports on me and send them over to that wanna be Sherlock friend of yours."  
  
    Before he could get a response, Adachi stood and walked towards the door exiting his apartment, opening it. He extended his arm mockingly outside.  
  
    Narukami sat for a moment, watching Adachi carefully before standing. As he made his way through the door, he turned to Adachi.  
  
    "See you Monday, then. Have a nice day."  
  
    Adachi didn't move or acknowledge him, he watched as Narukami disappeared around the corner of the terrace. After a moment, he sighed and stepped back inside.  
    He threw away his broken mug and grabbed a beer.  
  
    The next few weeks were going to be long and irritating.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weird errors fixed.
> 
> I enjoy writing banter.

    "How was your week, Adachi-san?"

    "Woke up, went to work, ate, killed 30 people, slept. Wash, rinse, repeat. The usual."

    "Don't joke about that."

    "What, sleeping? Yeah, probably shouldn't. Insomnia is no joke," silence, "... what?"

    Narukami stared deep into Adachi, a hint of worry on his face, "Come on, kid, calm down. My life is so bland that it's just downright depressing right now."

    "Is that so." A statement, not a question.

    "Yeah, maybe it's the depression," the largest and most forced smile painted his lips then fell, "I take it you want more than just that answer."

    "Preferably, yes. Detective Shirogane asked for detailed notes."

    "Whoa, 'detective'? That bitch is still a detective after all--" he caught himself, looking at his guest. It was rare to see any sort of emotion on Naurkami's face, but right then there was the faintest taste of anger sprinkled in his eyes. Adachi grinned at that. "Oh come on, now. I'm happy for your friend. Couldn't find a way to legally get me behind bars and probably was laughed off for it, but hey! Glad she's still got her job! Must be nice!"

    Narukami closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and pressed forward, "Back on topic, start with when I left last Monday," he took his pen into his hand and flipped to a blank page in his worn pocket notebook, "How did your day go from there."

    "Hmm, when you left? Let's see," Adachi tilted his seat back and placed a hand on his chin, "Oh right! I drank enough to possibly kill my liver and passed out."

    "Right... after I left?"

    "Yep."

    Worry filled Narukami's voice, "It was... 11 a.m. when I left, though?" Adachi's reply was a gesture to a cardboard box filled with empty bottles and cans near the garbage can that lay against the wall in the small kitchen. Narukami put his hand to his chin, "Ah."

    "As you can see, I have what may be called," his hands went level with his head as he mimicked quotations with his fingers, "a 'problem'."

    "Right, right," Narukami sheepishly took notes, "So, after you woke up, how was the rest of your Monday?"

    "When I woke up, it was Tuesday, actually."

    His eyes went wide, "Right then, how was... Tuesday?"

    "Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday... let's see," Adachi rubbed the back of his neck, "Woke up at 6 a.m., went to my first job--"

    "Which is?"

    "Shouldn't you know, your gang of freaks did stalk me after all."

    "Remind me."

    Adachi rolled his eyes, "I went to the 7/11 around the block, worked for a few hours. Went home--"

    "Rewind. Tell me about work," the request was returned with a stare, "... what?"

    "I worked a morning shift at a convenience store."

    "Yes."

    "Do you think I remember anything between walking into that place then walking out?"

    "... Yes?"

    "You are a fool, Yu-kun. Anyway, after that, I went home to prepare for my second job."

    The sound of Narukami's pen scratches continued, "Alright, so how did you prepare?"

    "Grabbed a beer, watched T.V. for like two hours, put on my uniform and headed out to the restaurant that's right across the street from here."

    "Wait," he interjected, "your definition for getting ready for work is to grab a beer?"

    "And watch T.V., your point? I said I have a problem, what else did you expect?"

    "Nothing else, it caught me off guard still. So you go to work drunk?"

    "One beer doesn't get you drunk. Geez, you teenagers don't know anything."

    "I'm 21."

    Adachi's eyes went wide with genuine shock, "Whoa, what. Since when? Weren't you like 10 when we first met?"

    "I was 17, actually. As for when I turned 21, about two weeks ago."

    "17? You were like a toddler though."

    "I guess." Narukami clicked his pen, "Anyway, we're getting off topic. Do you remember what happened at this job?"

    "Yeah, because it wasn't ass early in the morning at the most life draining occupation imaginable."

    "Alright good," he readied himself to take notes.

    "Got in, boss was being a total dick as usual. Waited some tables, had some middle aged lady with a bad bleach job be a total bitch to me but other than that it was just like any other night."

    "Why was she angry?"

    "I don't even remember, something like getting the order wrong when it wasn't at all. Typical stuff."

    "Right then, after that?"

    "Went home, drank, slept."

    "And the next day?"

    "Wash, rinse, repeat, same thing over and over again, every day." A pause, "We done here? That day honestly wasn't much different from any of the other days."

    "You sure? Nothing abnormal or memorable?"

    "Nope. Not a thing." Adachi watched as Narukami scratched more notes onto the small notepad silently.

    It was the first time he looked at him, really looked at him and noticed the changes since he last saw him in Inaba. Once just a tall androgynous looking teen, he had grown to be, admittingly, a handsome young adult with features that were more angular, more masculine. He seemed to have grown a few inches and built up a bit more muscle. He was definitely not a teenager anymore.

    Narukami stood, clicking his pen and closing his notepad, "Interesting. This was interesting. Thank you for your time, Adachi-san."

    He replied with an affirming grunt as he stood from his seat, following his guest out. "Next time, I'll be sure to make things at least sound more interesting so you're not bored to death in your seat."

    A laugh, "you mean you didn't do that already?"

    "Nope, honest truths only," he opened the front door for Narukami, "Scout's honor."

    But his guest did not move, he stood there just in front of the doorway, staring at him.

    He blinked, "What? Something on my face?"

    "I worry about you, Adachi-san."

    Adachi stared at him for a moment before roaring in laughter. "Good one! Good one! But no, really, is there something on my face?" Narukami remained motionless.

    Adachi's expression nulled. He placed his back against the opened door, head facing upward as he gave a deep sigh, "Look, worrying about me is pointless. You know this by now," he turned to look Narukami in the eyes, "I can't be saved."

    They looked each other in the eyes for a minute that felt like an hour, the atmosphere was unreadable. Eventually, Narukami broke the stare, facing away as he walked out the door. Adachi watched him as he disappeared, once again, around the corner of the terrace.

    He returned inside, closing the door roughly behind him.

    He grabbed three beers from the refrigerator.

  
     _No one is allowed to worry about me.  
_

_I can't be saved, after all.  
_

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I was on a role with this update, so I ended up accomplishing two chapters in one go.  
> I worry a bit about small errors here and there with this, so if you spot anything, feel free to comment below and let me know. Thanks!

    Week after week, the meetings continued. Each one similar to the last, it felt pointless to Adachi. Nevertheless, he continued to humor the stone-faced man who intruded into his home every week. It was better than having 'big brother' keep a steady eye on him as he went about his day, after all.  
  
    Oddly enough, he did feel a sense of comfort in having someone to talk to, despite the situation. When it came to people, Adachi just didn't want a part in them. People were unpredictable, loud, and cruelly selfish. He spent as much time as he could to avoid dealing with people on any personal level. Sure, it was one thing to take orders or run a cashier and make small talk with a patron, but to connect with others socially? It just wasn't for him, at least not currently. The energy he'd burn to attempt to act like an active and outgoing human being to co-workers who'd occasionally invite him out would tire him beyond belief, so much that he would pass out as soon as he returned home.  
  
    To him, it just wasn't worth the hassle.  
  
    But with Yu, he didn't tire out as easily. Perhaps it was just the calm atmosphere the man would radiate that made him much more tolerable than anyone else, or maybe the to-the-point nature of their meet-ups. No, these meetings wouldn't wear him to the bone, in fact, they were almost therapeutic. Part of him wished that his life were a bit more interesting, just to not bore his guest with the dry mundanity that consumed him.  
  
    But while he somewhat enjoyed the company, it also made him anxious. As much as he'd like to pretend that these were simple meetings between two people, he knew it was much more.  
  
    He's waiting for a slip-up, Tohru. He's no friend, why would he be after what you've done? He's waiting for you to screw up, say something he could use against you. Plant something on you. Get you arrested.  
  
    Funny enough, while he wished for his own arrest at the very start, the thoughts that saturated his mind pissed him off. Suddenly, the weekly meetings felt more like interrogations rather than the thinly disguised casual chats. Yu Narukami, the stone-faced parole officer, and Adachi, the scummiest of criminals. That's what he was, after all. What else would the weekly visitor see him as?  
  
    Every Monday at 10 a.m, Narukami would come over. But this week, he didn't.  
  
    Adachi sat in his routine seat at his table, tapping his fingers against the varnished wood as he occasionally flashed a look at his watch. Noon, still not here. He tapped his fingers harder to the table. Nervous, annoyed, uncertain. Unpredictable, people are unpredictable after all. He sat there, unsure what to do or make of his day.  
  
     _He's either late or he gave up on me. Probably the last one._  
  
    He sat in the very same position for two more hours until he slapped his palm to the table. No matter the real reason, Adachi was not going to waste his time waiting for the kid like a goddamn pet. He stood up from his seat and did what he did best: grabbed some feel good juice (alcohol) and sat in front of the crappy secondhand T.V. he owned.  
  
    Television was, honestly, both a godsend and a spawn of Satan himself. It had the gift of delivering information to the masses through a window of the outside world, but most of said information was mind-numbing tripe existing to poison the minds of anyone who chooses to succumb to it.  
  
    Adachi was in it for the mind numbing, and after about three-and-a-half drinks, he was there. Watching wildly colors of surreal reality and talk shows were just only tolerable while drunk. These days, hardly anyone even watched television after all. Now, entertainment and mind poison took the form of pocket-sized cellular devices. It seems like the only point of T.V. these days is for older people and depressed drunks who have no one to see or anything to do on their shitty days off from working shitty part-time jobs that made them feel unfulfilled inside after they had an actual job not that long ago but chose to fuck it right up so that the only way they can shut their mind off is to get blackout drunk every night of their lives and hope they die of liver damage.  
  
    But, hey, you know. C'est la vie.  
  
    Adachi laid along his vastly uncomfortable couch, covered toe-to-nose in an old quilt, as he watched stupid show after stupid show. He was fading between reality and subconsciousness whenever a talk show snapped him back into attention.  
  
    "Do you believe that crime can exist hand-in-hand with the supernatural?"  
  
    "Haha, what do you mean?"  
  
    "Well, recently we've had unexplainable phenomena among violent crimes in our country. It's only natural to question it?"  
  
    "You mean like the mental shutdowns in Shibuya?"  
  
    "Yeah, and remember the Apathy Syndrome ruckus a few years back? I dunno, feels all related, and still, no one knows the cause of any of these. I think even the case of the Inaba murders is somehow tied in."  
  
    "Didn't they catch the murderer, though?"  
  
    "Nah, it turns out it was just some looney who fessed up to it, claimed that he could go into televisions or some garbage like that, haha. Weird thing is that one teen detective, Shirogane Naoto, was bent on trying him for the case even after all that crap. Honestly, should have just cut the mental patient some slack--"  
  
     Adachi switched off the television. With a mumbled obscenity, he turned over on the couch, face deep into the cushions as if to suffocate himself to sleep.  
  
     It would have been convenient if it weren't so unlucky, but as soon as the interrogators had even let him around a television set to prove his abilities, they went away. There was no way to prove the existence of the T.V. world at that point on his end, and assumingly from the kids' end as well. The whole situation was embarrassing for Adachi to even think back to. Finally, there he was, able to end all the rough talk from morons who think so little of his own mental capacity, able to prove to these shitty examples of the law enforcement that the most unbelievable shit was actually a real thing, he threw his hand as hard as he could into the CRT that sat in his cell with full force and smashed through it, cutting his hand to bits.  
  
     They laughed, they roared with the most annoying laughs known to man as Adachi crumpled to the floor in silent pain, "Well, I guess you sure can get into the T.V.!!"  
  
    Just remembering the disgusting snorts and laughter of those men was almost enough to pop a blood vessel in his eye, the memory caused him to try and bury himself further into the quilt. Shitty, the alcohol was supposed to help him forget all this crap, not have it play on repeat in his mind with no way to stop it.  
  
    He shot up from the couch, nearly falling over his own two feet as he nearly sprinted to his fridge once again to grab another drink. He yanked open the door only to notice he was fresh out.  
  
    He sank to his knees as he rested his head one of the empty shelves inside as he groaned dramatically. It must have been a pathetic sight, but he didn't care. He was fighting every fiber of his being from the strong urge to slam the door repetitively on his head until the thoughts left his mind.  
  
    A knock on the door filled the devastatingly quiet air of the apartment, Adachi sighed in relief.


	4. Chapter 4

    "I am very sorry for being so late, Adachi-san, but something had come up and I had to deal with it as soon as I could." Narukami bowed.  
  
    Adachi snickered, "Wow kid, look at you. All formal. Suits you," a mumble, "like a stick straight up your a--"  
  
    "I'm sorry? What was that? You're mumbling," Narukami paused for a moment as he walked in, sniffing the air, "That's... are you... drinking?"  
  
    "Aha! I wish! I'm all out actually, drinking no longer. You came at the right time, kiddo! No more drinks here!" Adachi stumbled a bit as he sat in his usual seat. Narukami stared at him, "What?"  
  
    "This is a bad time," his hand reached for the doorknob, "I'm sorry, I'll come back next week."  
  
    "Whoa hey," Adachi stood up, speedily walking over to him, "No no, stay a while! Talk to me! I've got nothing better to do anyway except cry and feel sorry for myself, you know! Haha! C'mon, this is a great time!"  
  
    "A... great time."  
  
    "I'm having a great time!"  
  
    "Are you."  
  
    "Yeah! A great time, let's do this now. Great time." Adachi perkily sat back in his seat.  
  
    Starring for a moment longer, Narukami joined him at the table, "So... anything new?"  
  
    "Uh, out of booze, people on T.V. are fucking stupid, I'm having a bunch of bad thoughts spurting out of me like a broken fire hydrant."  
  
    "I see. Any new happenings? Anything different?"  
  
    "That lady I told you about came into the restaurant again."  
  
    "The one with the weird hair that dresses as though she's skinned every animal alive?"  
  
    "Yeah her! She came in and acted like she owned the place again, right? She was like 'This soup is beyond cold! This restaurant is garbage, I have no idea why I keep coming here!' and all that jazz, you know the stuff she says, like, every goddamn time she comes in."  
  
    "Right."  
  
    "Well, for some reason, I couldn't just sit back and take it this time, you know? I can only go so far with that fake smile and fake optimism, so you know what I did? You know what I did."  
    "Oh god, what did you do?"  
  
    "I told her that she should just stop coming here if all she does is complain! Man, she got so upset with me that she got up right into my face."  
  
    "Oh no."  
  
    "But here is the thing, whenever she got a good look at me, her eyes widened and she stepped back."  
  
    Narukami tilted his head, "How come?"  
  
    "Guess she recognized me, at that moment she just, like, left. Without paying. Like an asshole."  
  
    "Hold on, define 'she recognized me'."  
  
    "What is there to define," a laugh, "did you forget my face was plastered all over the news for months while they tried to figure out what I did, how, and what to do with me? It's really funny that it took her until just then to realize it was me, the 'infamous, looney, Inaba suspect'. I guess it shows how much she is a self-absorbed bitch doesn't care about anything around her. She looked as though I was going to shoot her or something. Haha!"  
  
    "You're finding this a bit too funny."  
  
    "Isn't it funny though" Adachi looked at Narukami, his head leaned on his crossed arms, "I can't go anywhere without people immediately recognizing me as the looney from Inaba! But it's like a weird in between like they don't see me as the killer or as a wrongly suspected person, nah, they see me as a psychopath, as if I'm going to snap and shoot someone at any second."  
  
    Narukami sat silently as Adachi softly laughed to himself.  
  
    The room soon after filled with an odd silence, "I did some shit, I did some pretty unforgivable shit, you and I know that. But that's the past, I don't care about doing it all again, you know? I just want to stop existing at this point, because everything I've ever done in my life was a mistake. Every last thing." Adachi looked hard at the wall, noticing that a small amount of paint was chipping. Annoyed with it, he immediately faced away, towards his visitor, "But, you don't care about all that, don't you? You just want to write up your summary and go whatever it is you do. I get that."  
  
    Adachi leaned back in his chair, his head tilted up to the ceiling, "I got fired."  
  
    "I'm sorry."  
  
    "People don't like it whenever you're just a waiter and you make a big stink with the customer. They get pretty pissed at you, they make sure to nail it into your head just how disposable you are."  
  
  
    "When was this?"  
  
    "Last night."  
  
    "Sorry to ask this suddenly, but are you looking into another second job?"  
  
    "I have no choice but to. Can't afford to live otherwise." He laughed again, but this time much more forced than before, "It's so funny how things can easily fall apart."  
  
    "Well, I hope you can find a much better job soon," Narukami said, friendliness so genuine it made Adachi's eye twitch. "By the way," he began again, "there has been something I've been meaning to ask you about."  
  
    "What."  
  
    "It's regarding something you once said a while back, something that's stuck out in my mind since you said it."  
  
    "Just get on with it, at this point I'm an open book."  
  
    "Right," Narukami leaned his chin into his propped up fists, "You once said you joined the police force just to legally carry a gun."  
  
    "That I did."  
  
    A careful pause, a soft and concerning voice, "Why the gun?"  
  
    Adachi leaned back into his chair, looking at anything but his visitor, his voice an eerie calm musing, "Pills aren't efficient. Razors hurt too much, too messy, takes too long. Heights give you second thoughts." he rested his head in an open palm, "put two-and-two together."  
  
    Narukami's eyes widened, "You wanted to be able to legally own a gun for that?"  
  
    "Yes."  
  
    "That is the reason you joined the police force?"  
  
    "Yes. Are we going to keep repeating what has been said over and over again, because I frankly don't have the time--"  
  
    "That's a lie." Narukami interrupted.  
  
    Adachi threw him an irritated stare, "And how the hell do you think that's a lie."  
  
    "Why would someone go through such levels just to legally own a gun to kill one's self--"  
  
    Two fists slammed onto the table, Adachi stood, "Well, hey! Maybe it's the fact that it's near fucking impossible to just so happen to stumble upon a random, fully functioning, loaded gun in this fucking country! What right do you have to tell me whether or not I'm lying about my reasoning? What proof do you have?"  
  
    "You already had a gun," Narukami's voice remained calm at Adachi's outburst, "a modifyed model gun, fully functional."  
  
    "Proof?"  
  
    "It was found among your belongings whenever you were arrested."  
  
    Sore, "That means nothing, maybe I got that after I was legally allowed to carry--"  
  
    "Why would you carry it if you already had a real gun."  
  
    Adachi did not answer. With an aggravated huff, he sat back down.  
  
    "So what was your real reason?"  
  
    No answer.  
  
    "None of this will be used against you, I promise. I'm just personally curious."  
  
    A dry laugh, "Really now. Are we going to pretend that these little meet-ups aren't you digging for reasons to throw me into prison? Right, right, it's just us having a little tea party every week, talking about our days and other happy talk." Adachi starred down Narukami, as if to burn holes through his entire being, "We both know what this is. We both know that we hate each other and that we'd both rather be anywhere but here right now. All this bullshit about 'I'm just curious' and 'I worry about you' is fake. Our being nice to each other is fake. Our beating around the bush of the obvious is fake."  
  
    Narukami starred back, without any faltering emotion, "What proof do you have?"  
  
    Adachi's spine straightened at, caught off-guard by the quick, fearless, and genuine nature in the response. His fist clenched, his eyes shut hard as he burned his face into his folded arms. He breathed a simple, "Get out."  
  
    As if mulling over what to say, Narukami took his time in a response. His eyes examined the body language of the man in front of him. "Alright." he stood.  
  
    Adachi's eyes opened as he peeked over his arm, "Just like that? Done?"  
  
    "I'll see you next week, Adachi-san." He opened the front door. Before he let himself out, he stood in the doorway for a moment. "I'm not with you, nor am I against you. I have no reason to put on a facade." The door closed, he was gone.  
  
    Adachi remained at the table, his arms fell to his sides as he stared hard at the front door. He stayed there, unmoving, lost in his thoughts, again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adachi, upon realizing that he doesn't have to sit alone, drunk, with his thoughts: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sBrLwu2Lnb8


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't intend for there to be such a long delay between chapter 4 and 5 (wow, almost 2 months), but life has been happening quick for me.
> 
> I'll grace you all with two shining new chapters this morning, though. Chapter 7 is already halfway finished, so expect that soon as well.  
> Thanks for your patience and thanks for all of your kind comments. :x

    There was no "next week".  
  
    On the Sunday night before the usual weekly Monday parol visit, Adachi was walking home from work. His feet dragged as he climbed the rather out of shape stairway and continued to drag as he walked across the just as miserable balcony. His neighbor, a gentle old woman, was sitting in a chair just outside her door as she puffed on a cigarette, watching the night life of the city pass by in front of her.  
  
    Her natural habitat, she was almost always sitting here, always attempting to speak to any one who passes by her.  
  
    Adachi never acknowledged her, but every time he'd pass it was as though she made it her mission to say something to him.  
  
    Small comments such as "Lovely day, huh?" or "A little rainy, isn't it?" and sometimes "You work so often, don't over do yourself."  
  
    Each and every time, he'd avoid eye contact and speed up his pace ever so slightly. He didn't want to deal with some random person trying to pry into his life. There is nothing for anyone to dig for inside of him other than disappointment, after all.  
  
    As soon as he was in a close proximity of the woman, as usual, he picked up his pace. Less like usual, however, on this night she lifted up a cane and held it out in front of his path, nearly tripping him.  
  
    With a "Hah?" he stepped backward.  
  
    "I'm sorry, dear, it was the only way to get your attention," the old woman laughed, "do I really bother you that much? I was calling out to you ever since you got on this floor. Not so much as a glance  
in my direction! It was as though I weren't actually here, I had to pinch myself to see if I was still alive or not!"  
  
    "Ah... hah... sorry about that," he replied, awkward. "I was just focused on getting home, it was a long day you see..." a long day of talking to and dealing with other people, putting on a fake happy face for other fake happy people. Something he was done with. Especially now.  
  
    "Indeed it must be! Every day seems to be a long day for you, you poor soul, considering you do this quite often," her chuckle was met with a frown. "Oh no dear, don't take it so seriously. Everyone has their own problems going on, I'm more than well aware. But I didn't just try to trip you for no reason," she handed out an envelope, Adachi only stared at it, tilting his head.  
  
    "That young man who comes see you every week came by this afternoon, told me to give you this whenever I saw you. Such a sociable man, hard to believe the two of you know each other," yet another chuckle that was interrupted by a single cough.  
  
    Adachi's face twisted into a stiff smile as he awkwardly took the envelope, "thanks... ma'am."  
  
    "You're very welcome! I'm more or less happy that you're finally speaking to me after, what, 2 years since you've been here? I knew I'd get something out of you eventually."  
  
    She laughed again as Adachi turned to his apartment door without another, stepping inside. He gently closed the door behind him, only to feel his fist clinch harshly on the doorknob.  
  
    He couldn't say he enjoyed the exchange or being laughed at.  
  
    With a deep breath, his hand smoothed out to flick the light switch, he stared at the envelope.  
  
    It was blank. How eerie, Adachi thought to himself.  
  
    It is probably a letter stating how Narukami gave up on him. How he can't stand how much of a mess he was. It is probably a letter listing every single detail of how much of a repulsive human being he was, a list that would unfold to his feet upon opening it. It was probably a letter that contains very descript and very formally written methods on how to kill one's self and signed by each of Narukami's friends.  
  
    Or maybe Adachi was just overreacting, but that thought was deeply overshadowed by all the other predictions. His hand involuntarily shook, and he hated that. There was no way this letter was a positive one, and that really shouldn't bother him. In fact, he expected that to happen sooner or later.  
  
    Everyone give up on him, sooner or later. It's just how it was.  
  
    But it did bother him this time, and he had no earthly idea why. His hand clenched around the still sealed envelope as he threw it harshly onto the table. He didn't need to read it to know what was inside. He didn't want to know either.  
  
    Emotions filled his head, emotions he didn't fucking want. With the letter, the indirect insults from his elderly neighbor combined with the stress of an excruciatingly long work day, he was officially done for today.  
  
    He made the ever ritualistic night walk to the refrigerator, grabbing as many cans of beer he could before stopping, taking a look in his fridge.  
  
    Nothing but booze.  
  
    He placed the cans onto the table before checking his cabinets.  
  
    Empty.  
  
    No food.  
  
    It was almost weird until he remembered that he was no longer working at the restaurant and sneaking out food nightly. There was absolutely nothing able to be ingested other than the beers he had just spent the rest of his money for the week on.  
  
    He blinked, this wasn't good.  
  
    But he chose to think about it later, he sat at the table and drank can after can until it was tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6

    He woke up with the most soul crushing headache, met with only the sounds of noisy neighbors moving furniture in the floor above him. He groaned and tossed around on his futon, trying to drown out the intrusive sounds that hammered away at his head pain. 

    The sounds wouldn't stop. It wasn't until the sound of a loud crashing and muffled cursing that Adachi rose up to throw a nearby beer can to the ceiling quite roughly.

    That, of course, did nothing. The sounds continued on and Adachi nearly screamed.  He roughed his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily as he sat in a fetal position on his futon. This damn headache. This fucking headache.

    In the hindsight, it was his own fault, drinking as much as he did on an already empty stomach. But in the foresight, he'd do it again, anyway.

    He sat there until the sounds above him finally drew to a stop, which felt longer than what it probably was. His body relaxed on the padded sheets, he sighed.

    His body felt like hell, true hell. He didn't even feel like moving, but he knew he had to. He turned to lay on his stomach as he reached to his left, grabbing at the cell phone that was placed upon the coffee table near where he lay. After a few fumbling attempts, he successfully grasped it. He tilted his face upward, eyes only peeping out from his pillow obscured face as he flipped open the phone to check the time.

    One o'clock in the afternoon, only a few hours until Yu-kun would be coming over...

    Oh, wait.

    Remembering the envelope only made Adachi furrow his brow and bury his face even deeper into the pillow, crumpling a part of it in his hands.

    A part of him craved another beer just for the memory, but even a skilled alcoholic such as himself knew that doing so now would just be pushing it.

    Besides, the fact that his eyes felt like they were about to pop-out from his skull was enough to make him not want to drink for a while.

    Whether he liked it or not, however, he did have to get out of bed sometime soon. He needed some water at the very least, and staying in bed all day was not on the top of the list of his favorite things to do. He stood up with a loud breath, a joint or two cracking as he did so.

    God, he felt so old. 30 wasn't necessarily old, not young but not old enough for his body to feel so heavy constantly. Maybe it was his diet or, appropriately saying, his lack of.

    The best he had ever really eaten in his adult life was whenever he worked at that restaurant. He didn't really know how to cook, never really cared to learn, and survived mostly on instant foods. It was fast, convenient, and at least it was something going into his stomach so he didn't complain much.

    There was a chef that worked at the restaurant that worried about him, apparently. Each night he'd give Adachi a container of some food he put aside specifically for him. At first, Adachi tried to deny any attempts at the man trying to help him out, but he was firm.

    "Look at you, you're skin and bone. At least take the food so I don't have to worry about you starving to death one night."

    Eventually, he started taking home the food just to appease the chef, storing it away in his fridge without knowing what else to really do with it. A very familiar gesture, one so familiar it bothered him.

    Initially, he never planned on eating the food, but once he realized money was so very tight, he sucked it up. Only for the sake of survival. He didn't like the idea of "being alive" so much, but he much preferred a death that wasn't as slow and painful as one of starvation.

    And like all things, that luxury ended like some sort of punishment. At this point, he hardly cared. It was almost worrying how little he did these days.

    He stood by the sink, filling up an empty cup with tap water. He watched as the water slowly filled the cup, his gaze then fluttering to the crumpled envelope on the table. He stared at it, hard, as the sound of faucet pouring out water into the glass grew louder and louder. 

    He looked away only when he felt the water begin to overflow the cup, forming pools on the crevices of his grip. He speedily switched the water off as he tilted his head backward and gulped down the water. One of his eyes remained open, watching the envelope so intently, as if it'd move. Or as though it would open and read itself. 

    His stare did not leave even as he placed the empty glass into the sink.

    He knew he had to read it sooner or later. He can't keep pretending whatever inside won't exist if he doesn't read it.

    He knew it, but he didn't want to face it. Not just yet, after all. After all, there was some spilled alcohol on the table that needed to be cleaned.

    After he cleaned that, he realized the dishes were starting to pile up.

    And that the floor needed to be vacuumed. The walls cleaned.

    And that the garbage needed to be took out. That the laundry needed to be done. That coffee table needed to be cleaned as well. That he had to take a long, long hot shower. That the neighbors were correct and today was a really good day to move around furniture because the current layout felt much too cramped.

    After all of that, it was 11 p.m., and he was sitting on the couch blankly staring at the switched on television. Not a single word from Narukami that day, Adachi was correct, he had obviously given up. Narukami was finally out of his hair, no more would he have to sit with him for hours talking to him about pointless crap that Adachi knew he didn't care about.

    The thought should have made him happy, but it didn't. Not at all. 

    In fact, it kind of pissed him off.

    Narukami gave up on him, many people before him did, but that didn't make it easier. No, it made it all the more frustrating instead. How fucking dare he, he came in every week and pretend to give a shit whenever, in the end, all he only saw him as a pathetic burden, a turtle on its back that refused to even attempt to roll back on it's legs. He didn't care, he never did, he didn't have a reason to but he had even less of a reason to pretend to care. 

    Fake kindness. Everything was fake kindness. Of course it was, why the hell would anyone want to be nice to Tohru Adachi?

    He felt an empty burn in his chest, the feeling making him unable to focus on anything but the realization. His teeth gritted as he kept staring at the T.V., unable to concentrate enough on what exactly was playing.

    Maybe the letter at least tells him why. Maybe it at least told him why Narukami just decided to leave without a word face-to-face. Maybe it contained every small reason why he couldn't stand being around him, maybe he could learn from that and be much less insufferable to any other people who come visit him.

    Okay, the idea of actually getting visitors was laughable, but what if.

    He rose from his stiff position on the couch and nearly stomped towards the table, ripping open the letter so hard that he sliced his finger. He scrambled to open the letter, nearly tearing it. Once he read the words on the page, his body slumped and his eyes closed as he took a deep breath.

    In a clean handwriting:

 

        _Adachi-san,_

_I'm sorry, but I will not be able to make it to the next meeting as planned. I have finals coming up soon and will be using the entire week to study. Next week we'll resume._

_Here is my phone number so that we do not have to rely on this form of communication._

_Narukami Yu_

    Adachi leaned over on the table, head in his hand. The only thing he could say was, "I'm so stupid." softly to himself, over and over again.


	7. Chapter 7

    They sat across from each other, the sound of the wall-mounted clock's ticks filled the chilled Autumn air of the too-small, and almost too-cool, apartment. His eyes would look anywhere but the eyes of his guest, he tapped his finger rhythmically against the table absent-mindedly.

    "... You're more quiet than usual," the guest spoke as he brushed his finger along  the near ragged sheets of paper of his pocket-sized notebook, "still upset with me?"

    "Hm...?" Adachi snapped back to reality, "Oh. No, not really."

    "Something happened last week?"

    "Not really, no."

    "I was almost worried when you didn't call me. Worried that you didn't get the letter."

    "I did."

    "Well, I know this now," Narukami placed the notebook back into his breast pocket. "But it would have been much more helpful if you did actually call to inform me."

    "How come."

    "So we could establish a better method of communications when problems arise."

    "No point. You either come or you don't," Adachi waved his hand, "I'll be here regardless. Don't have anywhere to go anyway. It's not like this is official business, after all. You don't need my phone number."

    "It'd just make things easier, is all."

    "Nothing in life is easy."

    "Okay, existential one-liners aside, how would you prefer to be contacted?"

    Adachi folded his arms on the table's surface, resting his head in them,"Just... show up. I don't know. It doesn't matter."

    "...Are you feeling well?"

    "Hmm?"

    "I said, 'Are you feeling well?'."

    "That you did," Adachi yawned.

    Narukami waited, "... So?"

    "So what?" Adachi replied in a slightly agitated tone.

    "Are you... going to... I don't know. Answer that?"

    Adachi didn't. Instead, he remained silent. His head still down. Narukami stood from his seat, walking towards Adachi's left side to shake his shoulder. Upon the interaction, Adachi's posture swiftly straightened.

    "Are you feeling well," Narukami repeated.

    "Huh? Me? I guess??" Adachi looked around, his vision felt off.

    "Have you been drinking?"

    "Surprisingly, not today," Adachi blinked multiple times, "Not today, yet. Good idea though." He began to stand up, Narukami's arm immediately wrapped around his back.

    "Adachi-san... I'm not sure if that's a good idea right now."

    "Like I caa---" An abrupt and overwhelming numbness fell over Adachi as became fuzzed. He stood in silence, leaning on his arms that were propped onto the table. He could feel his heart start to pound in his chest. He found it much harder to breath all of a sudden. He faced down.

    Narukami leaned in closer to Adachi, shyly trying to grab hold of him. Narukami's face was one filled with concern,"Are you sure you're alright?"

    To that, Adachi choked a forced and weak laugh, "Yeah, yeah," he lied, "It's just... a spell of dizziness. It happens." He leveled his head again to face his guest, the motion causing his sudden ailments to worsen. He tried to weakly push Narukami away, "I... just need to go lay down if you don't mind," he began to walk his way towards the couch, "Sorry, we'll have to cut this shorr..." like a strike of lightning, it hit him. His vision went dark, the ground felt as though it was pulled from under him. He began to fall, catching himself by slamming an arm against the wall he was, thankfully, nearby.

    He couldn't see, his head felt as though it were filled with static, his breath was out of control, and he could feel a cold sweat start to break. He began to slip from his grip on the wall as his legs gave out. The feeling of a strange, foreign warmth wrapped around his stomach that caught his fall elicited a weak and surprised "ah," from him.

    The warmth shifted, keeping a steady hold against his back. Hold... arms... those are arms, right? The other possible arm had disappeared for a brief moment. Adachi then felt the ground beneath him fall away yet again, a soft "hah..." sounded from the back of his throat at the motion. He expected to fall, but he didn't. He noticed that there was a lot more warmth, feeling it on his sides as well as under his knees. He didn't realize he was being carried until he was gently set down on the couch.

    His vision began to return, slowly. He felt the soft pressure of Narukami's hand that was placed against his shoulder. The gesture was extremely comforting, Adachi would admit, but he immediately (and weakly) swatted it away.

    "Adachi-san," a worried voice, "this is not normal."

    After a few deep breaths, he replied with a weak, "I'm aware."

    "Pardon me for jumping to conclusions, but..."

    "Just say it."

    "Have you been eating..."

    "Hardly."

    "Adachi-san."

    "What?"

    "That's not healthy."

    He sighed, annoyed, "Yes. I'm aware. Food costs money. Kinda tight on that."

    "Yet you always have enough for alcohol."

    "Piss off. Doesn't matter."

    "Yes, it does matter," Narukami said, grave, "you can't keep doing this to yourself."

    "Why the hell not."

    "You'll die."

    "Good," Adachi shifted his weight, burying his face into the seat of the couch, "things would be so much easier for everyone that way, anyway."

    "That's a lie."

    "No. It's not. It's something even you secretly wish for and you know it."

    "That's also a lie."

    "Why would it be. You probably get off to seeing me like this anyway. Sad, miserable, fucking rotting from the inside out. It must be the best thing ever to see such a pathetic piece of crap like me

wither away like this. Getting my comeuppance," he bent his legs to his stomach as he pressed his face even deeper into the seat. "You probably tell your little friends every thing about how depressing I am. You probably all laugh. Hell, I would if I were in your shoes. What worth am I anyway?"

    Silence poured into the room as a response, Adachi clinched his fists. "Why didn't you just let me fall right then and there, then? Why did you catch me? Why did you carry me like that? Why do you laugh at me behind my fucking back yet pretend you give a rat's ass about me as soon as you set foot in here?"

    "I don't laugh at you."

    "Bullshit. You do. Why wouldn't you? It's so fucking funny."

    "It's not."

    "Then why the hell didn't you say that immediately after I said it? You didn't say shit about it otherwise, you were quiet because I guessed it right. You felt caught, so you didn't say anything."

    "I paused because I never would consider doing that to anyone."

    "Liar."

    "Honest."

    Adachi tilted his face out of the seat, just barely, to catch a glimpse at Narukami. He was sitting close to him, on the edge of the coffee table. His face was as still as ever, absolutely unreadable. His fists clenched even harder.

    He was just about to speak again until Narukami beat him to it.

    "As I said before, I have no feelings towards you. Positive or negative. I meant that."

    "How."

    "Truthfully, I never did."

    "Why."

    "Because, deep down, I know that you're not any of the people you projected yourself as."

    "What?"

    "I have no feelings towards you because I don't know who you are."

    "...What?"

    "You right now," Yu gestured towards him, "isn't who you really are. It's hard to describe."

    "... I'm me."

    "I don't believe it was," Narukami's eyes met his, "nor do I think the Adachi I first met was really you."

    He blinked, "I think I see it now..."

    "Yes?"

    "You're nuts."

    "Maybe. But I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want to know you better. Know the real you."

    "Why?"

    Narukami paused, his hand meeting his chin as he faced upward, "... Don't know. Curiosity?"

    Adachi gave a deep sigh and shook his head as he sat up. "You're a dumbass," he raked his right hand through his hair, "but whatever."

    "Whatever?"

    "Whatever. There is not much to know about me, I'm a pretty boring guy if you leave out the whole murder suspect-slash-culprit part. I'm not really worth 'getting to know' but..."

    A tilted head, "Whatever?"

    Adachi pointed towards him in exaggerated affirmation, "Whatever."

    Narukami smirked and breathed a short laugh, "Alright then. Now... how are you feeling?"

    "Whate--"

    "Don't say 'whatever' again."

    "Okaaaay fiiine. I feel like shit."

    "I wonder why."

    "Don't sass me."

    "Whatever." the smile on Narukami's face crooked as he stood. Before Adachi could make a comeback, Yu began to walk towards the exit, "Stay here, I'll be back."

    "What are you planning." Adachi's tone stern.

    "Just wait. Again, I'll be back."

    "I'll lock you out."

    "No, you won't," his voice almost sang as he closed the door behind him.

    Adachi remained on the couch, eyes locked on the door. Moments passed before he realized he was obsessively focused on the front door. He closed his eyes and shook his head which only proved to be a mistake as the room began to violently churn around him. With a gasp he lay back onto the couch, head facing up. His vision began to fuzz over once again as his body became heavy.

    This is pretty bad, he thought to himself.

    He took a risk and attempted to maneuver himself towards the sink in the kitchen just a few feet away. His body felt unreal, weighted, as if were about to fall at any moment. His balance was horrendous and standing up only made his vision worse and worse. Breathing was hard, it was really hard, hell just being alive at this very moment was really hard for him.

    By some magic, he was able to make it to his destination. He grabbed a glass from the counter and filled it with water. By some curse, he only managed to spill it's contents all over the front of his body. With a weak and breathy "fuuuuhhhck", he fell to the floor.

    His vision went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like my fic? Have a Tumblr? Really like Adachi related stuff? Well you should give my very relevant side-blog a follow at http://yuu1133.tumblr.com  
> The only reason I'm really advertising it is as another means to shoot comments my way and to give people another way to know whenever I update this thing. But give it a nice ol' follow if that's something that interests you.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two new shining chapters, right off the press for you!  
> Chapter 8 is a bit short, however, chapter 9 is of usual length. Enjoy!

    Dark.

    He was surrounded by an intense darkness. A soft mix of unintelligible voices echoing within his ears. He tried to move, but he couldn't no matter how much he willed at his limbs to move. He couldn't feel or see his body, were they even there? Was he even alive?

    He was dead, or at least he was sure he was. He had to be.

    The voices grew louder and louder, inflating his skull with their mad and foreign sentences. He couldn't take it anymore, he wanted to do nothing more at that moment than to curl into a ball and beat the heels of his hands into his head. The voices sounded so sad, so regretful.

    So angry and familiar.

    Having no choice but to listen, he recognized some of the voices, and as he did, he could understand them one-by-one.

    One was his father, a man he hadn't spoken to in 15 years. His voice was angry and disapproving. Just hearing his father's voice was enough for Adachi to have an intense urge to flinch.

    "You're grades are atrocious! What the hell is wrong with you?! Is there anything you take seriously and could you just go to class for once in your life? Fucking kids these days, they are all worthless slackers. You're the very worst case of it!"

    He closed his eyes tight, biting his teeth together as hard as he could, willing the voice away as it went on and on. 

    He hadn't been the best student, but he wasn't the worst either. He was fairly average, doing what he could just to get by. It's not as though he didn't want to do better in school, as a kid he wanted nothing more than to impress his dad with outstanding grades, but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't focus. His father, who honestly did much worse than his son in his time, thought very ill of him. At any chance he could, he would berate and force the blame of any of his problems onto his son.

    Eventually, his parents divorced and his father took no time to completely remove himself from his life. Adachi was silently thankful for it.

    After some time, the voice faded away. In its place, a very soft yet sharp female voice pierced his hearing.

    "I always knew you were like this," it was his mother this time, "who'd have ever thought I'd give birth to such a freak? I knew, deep down, you were just another disgusting piece of crap like your father, Tohru, but still, I am surprised. At least he wasn't a murderer."

    He was as close to his mother as he was with his father, by which meant not at all. The two of them always taking out their own frustrations on to him in their own ways and rarely ever giving him a sliver of affection. They didn't want kids, they didn't even want to get married. But a single accidental pregnancy lead to both of those becoming their unsatisfying reality. His parents hated each other just as much as they hated him, so it felt. 

    And so it was whenever they divorced. 

    His mother was always cold and seemingly emotionless. She was the kind of woman who wasn't afraid to shatter your dreams with blunt negative remarks of "reality". This also applied to her only son. Any time young Tohru would feel adventurous, pursuing anything other than his studies to broaden talents, his mother stood in the way and was always eager to remind him that any sort of hobby was inevitably pointless.

    It still always stung, even if it was constant. Her voice stung more so than his father's did. His father would always criticize him over trivial things.

    His mother was always precise and, as much as Adachi didn't like to hear it, was truthful.

    Even now, she was precise and truthful.

    Her voice disappeared back into the darkness. Two female voices remained and they spoke in unison. They spoke so softly, their voices lacking in any emotion whatsoever. Hallow, they sounded hollow and dead.

    "It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault."

    His body felt even colder, he recognized the voices immediately. 

    Saki Konishi and Mayumi Yamano.

    "It's your fault."

    It's his fault.

    He knew that. He knew it was his fault.

    "It's your fault."

    He knew that, and even still, despite his cold demeanor when remembering it, he feels sick to his stomach.

    "It's your fault."

    He stomach tensed and his body felt even lighter. He wanted to throw up.

    "It's your fault."

    "I know."

    "It's your fault."

    His breath quickened, he felt so sick as the voices continued to repeat, getting louder and louder. A strangely delicious smell wafted through the air.

    He threw up.


	9. Chapter 9

    He woke up back in his apartment. Eyes were wide, breathing heavy as he lay on the couch. A delicious smell wafted through the air. 

    It was a nightmare. He got those a lot these days. But this one was much more intense. His stomach still churned at just thinking about it.

    The smell of food didn't help that, either.

    He blinked a few times, trying to comprehend what was around him. Though the memory of the exact time it happened was hazy, he did recall that he had passed out in the kitchen. He didn't recall having enough time to cover himself with the blanket he kept in the closet near the television. He also didn't remember nor believe he had enough energy to snuggly wrap said blanket around himself.

    Could it have been...

    He lifted his head up to peer over the couch's arm, searching for the source of the foreign smell of cooked food that never existed inside these walls. 

    Narukami. Of course.

    He had to be such a good samaritan that he went as far as to tuck Adachi in.

    ... Embarrassing.

    Adachi dug himself deeper into the blankets at the thought. He didn't like being lifted the first time just maybe an hour or two before, he especially didn't like it the second time, either.

    Narukami gave the pot a few more stirs before glancing in Adachi's direction. 

    "Awake?"

    "Dead."

    "I take that as a yes."

    "I died," Adachi's voice groggy, "now leave."

    "Nope."

    "Yes."

    "Nope."

    "... Please."

    Narukami laughed, genuine. Not forced like the many exchanges before, the strange sound of it caused Adachi to make a face.

    "'Please', I don't think I've ever heard you say that," Narukami tapped the spoon against the edge of the pot, "but I'm sorry, I can't leave until you have something to eat."

    "I don't need it."

    "You passed out on the floor just now."

    "I was resting my eyes."

    "You blacked out."

    "Sometimes that just happens."

    Another laugh. Adachi's expression remained null as he watched Narukami fiddled with the food.

    A thick, rich soup and some rice, so it seemed. Adachi's stomach, despite the disgusted churning, growled. 

    "That's... uh... quite a bit of food you've prepared..."

    "Yep. Should be enough to keep you fed for a while."

    "... How much did all that cost? The ingredients?"

    "Doesn't matter."

    "I smell meat, that's not cheap. It does matter."

    "You're not going to pay me back, anyway, so it doesn't."

    "... Well, then."

    Narukami tapped a ladle to the large pot on the stove a few times, "I wouldn't let you pay me back, either, even if you tried."

    "People just don't make people a whole meal out of their own pocket for free. Especially people like me."

    "Correct."

    Adachi peaked out from the blankets, resting his chin on the arm of the couch to face Narukami. He raised an eyebrow, "What are you saying, then?"

    Narukami turned to face Adachi, a smirk on his face.

    Uh-oh.

    "You can have this," he gestured to the pot, "if, and only if, you stop drinking."

    "Out of the question."

    "You sure?"

    Adachi's stomach growled, loudly, "Positive. Make a new deal."

    "Those are my only terms. Either it's no alcohol or no food."

    Adachi stared eye-to-eye with Narukami from across the apartment, Narukami only smiling in response. 

    Jackass.

    Adachi closed his eyes, leaning his face into the couch's arm. He hissed air between his teeth in a defeated sigh. "Fine."

    "Hm, I thought you'd put up more of a fight."

    "I want to die, but starvation just sucks."

    "I just don't want you to die."

    "Touching."

    Narukami breathed through his nose rhythmically, a small laugh, as he turned back to tend to the pot.

    Adachi watched him. The long sleeves of his black turtleneck were pushed up to his forearms, exposing some muscle. Narukami wasn't by any means "buff" or anything, but he did have quite a bit of muscle. The turtleneck was a bit tight on him, highlighting his form quite nicely. Adachi's eyes trailed around it until he realized he was doing so. He shut his eyes, whispering, "What are you doing?" to himself.

    "You said something?" Narukami asked, not moving from his position.

    "Uh, yeah. How long until it's done?"

    "Should be done soon."

    "Right," Adachi turned to lay on his back, "... thanks."

    "You're welcome!"

    Adachi crossed his arms over his eyes as he lay, blocking out the light's in the apartment. He watched dim figures dance behind his eyelids.

    He fully intended on keeping up with his drinking activities. There just was no way to take that away from him at this point, it felt like alcohol was his only friend after all. But he was also not going to turn down free food, especially when he had gone without anything more than a few packs of candy over the past week.

    But a small part of him disapproved of doing so. A small part of him wanted to appease Narukami.

    He sighed, then heard the sound of bowls tap to the hard surface of the coffee table to his left. He peeked one eye out from under his eyes.

    "Here you go."

    "Wow. Two whole bowls for me?"

    "One is for me, actually."

    "Oh, how selfish, Yu-kun!" Adachi joked.

    Narukami laughed softly, he sat on the floor on the other side of the table.

    Adachi smiled as he shifted himself to sit upright. His vision spun as he did so.

    The two joked as they ate, telling stories of past experiences and being uncharacteristically upbeat with one another. It felt abnormal, but not at all unnatural to Adachi.

    Maybe, just maybe, he had more friends than he thought.


	10. Chapter 10

    "Look, all I'm saying is that they just don't belong in that setting. Y'know?"  
  
    "I mean, you're not... wrong. But you can't just ban them."  
  
    "Why not? It's normal for businesses to have age restrictions."  
  
    "Yes, but you can't just ban children. What about their parents who want to, like, go to the store and buy something?"  
  
    "Can't do it. Bringing children will be banned. They're forbidden now, remember?"  
  
    "Adachi-san, kids can't be banned from stores selling bath products."  
  
    "You're just going to sit there and watch as another brain-dead, helpless child takes a whopping bite out of a brightly colored bar of soap? Yu-kun! You monster!"  
  
    Narukami let out a short laugh and stood up. The sound of heavy, unrelenting rain pounding against the building encased the atmosphere, "I guess so? How did we even get on this topic?"  
  
    "No clue," Adachi said, stretching his back on the back of his chair, "... what are you doing?"  
  
    The sound of a cupboard closing followed by an ever casual, "nothing."  
  
    A lie, of course.  
  
    Adachi could only sigh, "A month. I've been clean for one full month, can you at least give me a break?"  
  
    The only reply was yet another, ever casual, "nope."

    At the end of every one of Narukami's visits, he had taken on the habit of doing a thorough investigation throughout the small apartment checking for any signs of alcoholic beverages. 

    Part of Adachi appreciated the extra steps the guy was taking, worrying about him. It was starting to become kinda old though, and it felt like he was being parented.

    Adachi stayed as he was, back arched over the railings of the tipped chair. He rocked back and forth, tapping the top of his foot against the legs of the table. The sounds of opening and closing the cupboards almost was rhymic.

    "I see you're buying more food," Narukami quietly noted, closing the last door.

    "Thanks. I need it to live."

    "You could buy less instant noodles, though. You eat like a college student."

    "You of all people should know the struggle, college student."

    "It's not that hard to eat better food, actually."

    "Yes, you're right but here is the thing," Adachi rocked his chair forward, all four legs flat on the floor, "I can't cook."

    "Well," Narukami leaned against the counter, arms crossed, "you could learn."

    "If you could magically make more hours in the day so I can have the free time for that between two long, shitty jobs, we'll talk."

    "How's that new one going for you, by the way?"

    "As good as a telephone job could get, I guess. Kinda draining, you know? You can only get so much across while trying to assist someone with only your voice. Especially if they're impatient-- what are you doing?"

    "Nothing," Narukami said in that ever, condescendingly, casual voice once again as he lay on the floor, checking the underneath of the couch.

    Wow, he was going all-out this time on his search.

    A loud groan, Adachi closed his eyes, "I swear, swear, that you're not going to find anything. Cross my heart and--" 

    he felt something cool press against his cheek. He opened his eyes to see a full can of beer in the left corner of his vision and an unreadable face in the middle, "... hope to die."

    Narukami's eyes did not leave Adachi's as he cracked open tab of the can. Without further words, he walked towards the sink and poured out its contents.

    Adachi pursed his lips, tapping his fingers nervously against the bottom of the chair, "... That was there a while. I did not buy that after... you know."

    He crushed the can and tossed it into the open trash bin, "So, what's the telephone job for again?"

    A blink, "Ah, it's just telemarketing stuff. Call people, get people to sass you, they hang up, your day is ruined. Wash, rinse, repeat... You're not mad, right?"

    "At you doing a telemarketing job?"

    "... N-no?"

    "Telemarketing sounds like it sucks," Narukami made his way back to the other part of the small apartment. Still on the lookout for more surprises.

    Adachi twisted his torso to watch over the other man as he continued his search, biting his bottom lip. The can probably rolled under there on a rather drink heavy night. It must have been there for quite a while, he thought, just the idea of how long it probably was there made his body cringe. 

    How unclean.

    The sound of the rain was just as heavy, if not worse, as Narukami scoped the entire apartment. Adachi watched as Yu's long, pale, thin hands traced around furniture. 

    Yu had an interesting look on his face when he was focused. Before the visits, Adachi was convinced that his almost completely monotonous face was incapable of showing any emotion. After seeing so much of him, though, he learned how to pick-up on Yu's body language. Like when Yu was focused, he'd chew on his tongue. When Yu was uncomfortable, he'd brush his hand, light, against his hair. When Yu would laugh, he'd close his eyes, smile, and tilt his head downward.

    It was kinda cute.

    Just an observation, of course. It was cute by observation.

    "Alright," Narukami stood up, "all clear."

    "You really don't have to do all that."

    "Well, considering the can under the couch..."

    "It's been there a while," Adachi winced, how unclean, "I swear."

    Narukami shrugged, "Doesn't really matter, can't really prove it now, can we?"

    A sigh, "I guess, whatever."

    "Well," Narukami stepped towards the exit, grabbing his thick coat and umbrella, "this was a good meeting, as always. Thank you for your time. And again, I'm sorry for having to push this so late in the day."

    "Right, right..." the sound of the rain grew louder, causing a heavy feeling to form in Adachi's stomach, "uh. Yu-kun."

    "Hm?"

    "You sure... it's safe to drive in that? It sounds like hail."

    Narukami tilted his head, "You're worried about me?"

    "I mean..." he bit his teeth together, hard, for a moment, "If you were to, I dunno, drive off road and drive straight into a building and dying... it'd just... suck to have one of the other guys from your group replace you... you know?"

    A smirk, "Ah, very courteous of you, Adachi-san. But I'll be fine."

    "No no, wait here," Adachi reached into the cabinet below the sink to retrieve a stack of newspapers. He placed a few gently onto the floor, "see? I'll even set up a place for you to sleep!"

    They laughed. Hard. 

    So hard the both of them needed minutes to collect themselves.

    "Well," Narukami said, nearly breathless, "I'm not sure if I'm okay with the newspaper..."

    "Well if you're gonna be a wimp about it, I GUESS you can take the couch."

    "Deal."

    "Ah... what really?"

    "Yeah," Narukami stood up to hang his coat back up, "truth be told?"

    "Mhm?"

    "Kinda don't want to drive in that, either."

   ----

    Adachi lay on his futon and, as usual, couldn't seem to sleep. The dark room was still as the rain outside remained violent. He shifted to his right side, facing the couch which held a sleeping Yu Narukami, wrapped in thick blankets. A small sigh, in this moment, more than any, he wished his apartment had private rooms. For some reason, the idea of another person sleeping in his apartment alerted him.

    He guessed he just wasn't all that used to it. He never really lived with anyone, unless you counted his roommate in his short time in college.

    Which he didn't really like to remember.

    Since he couldn't relax enough to sleep, he found himself just staring at Yu. It felt strange to him, how close he had gotten with him despite their past. After the events of Inaba, the last thing he'd have expected would be him being so buddy-buddy with the man he fought life-and-death with.

    He also didn't expect to feel so oddly attached to him, either. Life was odd.

    His eye twitched at the realization, though. Over the past few months, he really did become attached to Yu. To the point where he would actually be kind of upset whenever Yu had to cancel a date with him.

    And by date, of course, he meant the meetings.

    Not a date-date, of course, that was unrealistic.

    Even if that weren't unrealistic and it was a date-date, it still would be bad anyway. Everything in Adachi's life went sour, after all.

    Absolutely everything went sour. It didn't matter how much Adachi's mind would sigh looking at the sleeping man next to him and say "He looks really cute" or anything. If he even dares try to do anything about these weird feelings, it's just going to end up bad.

    It always does.

    With a loud groan, Adachi buried his face into his pillow. This was a shitty idea. He made a mental note to not have Narukami spend the night again, it just affected him too negatively. 

    The sound of his breathing into the folded pillow was almost just as loud as the unrelenting storm. Funny, he thought to himself, how he'd always get like this around anyone who showed him the vaguest amount of validation. Anytime someone showed the smallest lick of kindness to him, he'd always end up favoring them, no matter the gender.

    Not always... this heavily, however. He blamed the intensity on the fact that he just wasn't around other people as often as he was Yu.

    He tried to close his eyes as hard as possible, hoping the lack of oxygen between him and the pillow lodged into his face would end up making him pass out and, thus, falling asleep. 

    No dice, however.

    He peaked his left eye out, it's sight meeting Yu's exposed hand, uncovered and flopped over the edge of the couch. He stared at it for a moment before slowly reaching out his own hand towards it.

    He stopped himself, just an inch or so away.

    This was stupid. He was stupid for even thinking about this. He was stupid for not stopping while he was ahead. God, he was just stupid.

    With a loud, irritated sigh, he let his hand fall where it was and buried his face deeper into the pillow.

    No one would ever care about an old killer, after all. He shouldn't even be pathetic enough to hope for it. 

    Then, a warm feeling encased his left hand. Caught off guard, he moved his head to face it.

    Yu had firmly grasped his hand and Adachi's pulse skyrocketed. He tried to pull it away, but Yu's grasp tightened at every tug.

    Adachi lay there, unsure of what to do. Unsure of what to make of this.

    Yet, oddly enough, it was just enough to finally relax him. At some point after this, between him panicking and his brain finally shutting off and getting the rest it so desired, it got it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is.   
> Let me know if the spacing is weird, I kinda rushed on transferring the formats from my word processor onto here.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back in action, bby.
> 
> This probably should have been two chapters, but since it's all through a different point-of-view this time, I decided to keep it in one chapter.

    The words "college life" meant three things for Yosuke Hanamura before he even registered for his first semester almost 3 years ago. The three things being girls, parties, and girls.  
  
    He was stoked as any other 18-year-old would be for his freshman year at a university (in the city he had grown up in, no less!) It was also just so awesome that his best friend-slash-partner, Yu Narukami, was going to be there with him as his roommates. As partners in crime, (or was partners against crime more accurate?) they vowed to absolutely tear that school apart with their influence. On the night before he'd leave for campus, Yosuke could just feel the possibilities erupt from his brain as he excitedly chirped each one into his cellphone about the what-if's and could-be's as Yu listened to every word.  
  
    "Dude, we're going to be the shit! It's going to be so cool-- hey! Be sure to pack that jacket, the one you wore last time you visited."  
  
    "Huh? The red one?"  
  
    "Yeah!"  
  
    "Okay... why though?"  
  
    "It looks awesome, dude. Trust me, chicks are going to love you!"  
  
    "For a jacket?"  
  
    "It's not the jacket, Yu, it's the jacket that'll catch their attention! With girls, you gotta stand out a little. Make them notice you. That jacket looks fucking amazing on you, some cutie's gonna see that and be like 'Ooooh, he looks so cool!' and will walk over to ya and--"  
  
    "This theoretical is oddly detailed."  
  
    "C'mon dude, trust me. Pack it!"  
  
    "Alright, alright. Doing it now."  
  
    Yosuke wore a grin of satisfaction, "I'm always right about girls!"  
  
    "You've never once in your life been right about girls."  
  
    "ANYWAY," Yosuke quickly waved his hand as if to wipe away the topic at hand, "it's been so long since we last hung out! We'll get to see each other, like, every day again. It'll be like old times."  
  
    "Minus the murders."  
  
    Yosuke went silent, his grip tightened around his cell phone.  
  
    "Sorry," Yu's voice was soft, "I shouldn't have brought it up."  
  
    "Still can't believe they just did nothing about it," Yosuke's voice was cold, "We caught him, and they did nothing."  
  
    A pause on Yu's end, "There was no way to prove it after we fought Izanami..."  
  
    Yosuke blew up, "So what! He was there. He was there, Yu. For each murder. Isn't that proof enough?!"  
  
    "It wasn't, Yosuke, not for them." Yu's voice remained even, sympathetic.  
  
    He teeth clenched together so hard he was sure they'd split. He sighed, his breath shaking as he did so, "So.... freshman year. It's going to be exciting."  
  
    Though it was a half-hearted change of subject, Yosuke knew it had to be done. The conversation eventually did lead back to a more light-hearted tone. Thank god. The subject of the murders and the trial were a hard topic for Yosuke, and they would always be. Yet, sadly, talks of it were bound to still happen. The entire mess was just stupid and unfair and just thinking about it was enough to strike every single last one of Yosuke's nerves at once. The freshness of the end of the trail was especially a sore spot. Yosuke Hanamura hated Tohru Adachi before, but words could not even begin to explain the absolute hatred he held for the man now.  
  
    Mayumi Yamano and Saki-senpai. The both of them were dead and he was allowed to just go? Life had a cruel sense of humor sometimes.  
  
    And Yosuke wasn't laughing. He refused to. He wanted nothing more than to see the man suffer. But he knew he wouldn't, even if his name were buried in the dirt, he knew Adachi would still continue on as is, thinking nothing about what he's done. Paying nothing for what he's done. Doing nothing for what he's done.  
  
    As angry as it made him, he hoped that school would at least help him forget about it. Not completely, of course, but give him a way to stop obsessing over it non-stop as he had been doing.  
  
    The first two months of school weren't as he planned, there weren't any parties (Well, none that he and Yu were invited to, anyway.) and girls never so much even glanced in their direction. It didn't kill his hope, though. As he said to Yu, they just haven't done anything that people would notice them for yet!  
  
    It still sucked, though. Shockingly, Yosuke was so obsessed with fun theoretical college adventures that he completely forgot one thing: College was school.  
  
    And he and school did not get along so well.  
  
    Which made it suck even more.  
  
   Yosuke really did envy Yu at times, though. Yu was seemingly this perfect human being who could balance classwork, jobs, and a social life flawlessly. Yu's superhuman social abilities horrified and amazed Yosuke. They always had, but something about living under the same roof with him intensified it.  
  
    Living under the same roof also intensified other opinions Yosuke had on Yu, most of which weren't fun to acknowledge. Especially whenever Yosuke's college goal was to pick up chicks.  
  
    What was Yu Narukami? A better question would be "What isn't Yu Narukami?", honestly. The guy was perfect. He was reliable, caring, trustworthy, thoughtful, handsome, and just about every other positive trait you could think of. He's the type of person Yosuke would usually find himself hating, envying, yet just being around Yu was refreshing. Yosuke didn't really have many friends growing up, sure he had many acquaintances that he'd hang around with, he'd have people he called friends but honestly didn't feel too much of a personal attachment with (Someone can only steal your money and force you to buy beef for them so often until you finally snap), but never did he have anyone that could ever compare to... Yu. It was an understatement to say he valued his relationship with Yu deeply, but saying that to him was something Yosuke would never dare to even try.  
  
    He always felt a little weird about Yu, but in a good way... maybe? He still wasn't quite sure.  
  
    In college, Yosuke also learned that time passes by so much faster. Two months in turned into two years. There were a few parties here and there, none were crazy enough to be notable, and there were still no girls.  
  
    Yosuke found himself being oddly okay with both of those. He found himself actually applying himself and studying more often than he did in high school, which was both bleeding him dry and making him feel like he was actually going somewhere.  
  
    Things were looking up just fine. During one certain study night he had with Yu, there was a knock on their dorm-room door.  
  
    Naoto.  
  
    She came with news. That Tohru Adachi was in this city, and that she wasn't done yet.  
  
    She wanted him to be in jail, where he damn well belonged and wanted them to help her out. He and Yu came up with some ideas. He proposed that they follow him, keep track of his movements.  
  
    "He's bound to be up to some shit, killers just don't stop killing. If we tail him every now and then, we'll find something. I know it."  
  
    Naoto nodded in acknowledgment, her gaze moved to Yu, "Your thoughts, senpai?"  
  
    Yu held his had to his chin, he was staring down at his feet, "What if we just talk to him?"  
  
    Yosuke gave him a look of pure disgust as Naoto tilted her head, her eyes wide in disbelief, "Just talk to him? Do you even think he'd be willing to?" she inquired.  
  
    "Probably not, but it's worth a shot."  
  
    Yosuke's fists clenched, "Oh yeah! We should just bake some cookies and head on over to his place like 'Hey man! Nice to see you again! Did you fucking murder anyone today?'. Fuck talking to him, he'd probably lie about everything anyway."  
  
    Yu frowned, "Yosuke."  
  
    "Please calm down," Naoto sighed, "I'm not fond of the idea either, but senpai's suggestion is... the most legal one at the moment."  
  
    "Yeah!" Yosuke admitted, "but I hate it! I don't want to talk with that creep. I'd much rather keep a nice, safe, distance from him and catch him doing shady shit from afar."  
  
    Yu's composture remained still, "I should be the one to talk to him, then. That is if we go with my idea."  
  
    Yosuke's snapped to face him, "Why?"  
  
    "Well," Naoto cut in, "I personally cannot get involved, as that'd be against my abilities, let alone the fact he'd be much less willing to reveal any information to me. And you..."  
  
    "Hate him," Yu added.  
  
    "Of course I hate him! Don't you hate him?" Yosuke looked at Yu, expecting an immediate agreement.  
  
    There was none. Silence.  
  
    "... Do you?"  
  
    Yu didn't meet Yosuke's gaze. Yosuke opened his mouth to say something before Naoto stood between the two.  
  
    "Anyway, back on topic," she said, firm, "You two are currently my only hope on this. I don't really care how you choose to keep tabs. But if it's an illegal method," she stared at Yosuke, "As far as anyone is concerned, I'm not involved. Got it?"  
  
    Yosuke's eyes never faltered away from the side of Yu's face, "got it."  
  
    "Likewise."  
  
    She sighed, "Good. Please do decide to do one or the other, things may be complicated otherwise. One idea at a time, if he's being talked to and being spied on at the same time, I highly doubt he'll be willing to give out any important information."  
  
    The silence remained, filling the room with awkward tension. "... I suppose I'll let myself out, then."  
  
    "Ah," Yu reached for the door and opened it, "Sorry. Thank you for coming, by the way, despite the reason."  
  
    She smiled, "Yes, sadly I won't be in the city for much longer, otherwise I'd suggest we do something."  
  
    "Another time then?"  
  
    "Absolutely," she began to walk out the door, "oh, by the way. One more thing before I leave."  
  
    Yu and Yosuke looked at her expectantly.  
  
    "Tohru Adachi may have a gun."  
  
\----  
  
    Yosuke started tailing Adachi, much to Yu's dissatisfaction, as soon as Naoto had mailed them all the information she had on his whereabouts. At the start, he thought he was pretty damn good at it. In fact, he bought a nice pair of sunglasses, a fake mustache, and a copy of a newspaper (in which he had ingeniously cut two eye holes into) to use at his disposal. He was a master at stealth and nobody, except a few curious police officers, would tell him otherwise. He was confident in his abilities until a few days into his mission. He was skillfully posted outside of the 7/11 the target was currently working at, standing right in the doorway with his disguise in full use. He was so immersed in his acting that he almost didn't feel the tap on his shoulder. He snapped back to see who dared to see past his disguise.  
  
    It was none other than the target himself. Adachi's face was stone still, so unamused that it could kill humor itself. He pointed at Yosuke, "Hanamura," his hand moved to gesture the mustache, "why."  
  
    Yosuke, frozen in both terror and anger (though mostly anger) simply just started to walk backward at an incredible speed without a single word. Adachi briefly chased after him, shouting, "WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?"  
  
    Maybe, just maybe, Yosuke's disguise wasn't as perfect as he thought it was.  
  
    It honestly didn't matter in the end, anyways, as much as he'd hate to admit. In the few weeks, he had been following Adachi, he had found out nothing. Adachi had a pretty easy to follow schedule. Home, work, store, work, home, repeat. He never spoke to anyone outside of work, he never stayed outside very long either. He'd always hurry home at any chance he could.  
  
    And for some reason, that pissed Yosuke off so much. The dude gets away with murder and he lives quietly and comfortably? How in the hell is that fair?  
  
    In fact, Yosuke's blood pressure would always skyrocket whenever he'd be even near Adachi. He just wanted to... do something. Punch him, maybe. He wanted to do much more, honestly, but he knew anything more than that would make him no better than Adachi.  
  
    But, man, he really wanted to do more than just punch him... even though he couldn't actually punch him either.  
  
    Though, what pissed Yosuke off the most about the situation was Yu.  
  
    Yu "let's talk it out with a murderer" Narukami.  
  
    Yu "stalking him will solve none of our problems" Narukami.  
  
    Yu "do you really think that mustache is going to actually work Yosuke" Narukami.  
  
    He was being really weird about this, Yosuke really didn't like it. There was a strange rift between the two after Naoto visited, and they were not speaking much with each other like they used to, if not at all.  
  
    "What if we just talk to him?" How could Yu just suggest that? No, suggesting that was one thing, it was how he said it. It was what was said afterward.

  
  
  
    Don't you hate him, too?  
  
     
  
    Since tailing him wasn't working out, Yu did eventually do as he had suggested before. He'd do over to his house every Monday or so and take notes of everything that happened during the visit. Each time he'd take pictures and send the notes over to Naoto through his cellphone. He'd offer the notes to Yosuke to read over on occasion, but Yosuke would always decline. "I don't wanna know what goes on in that guy's head."  
  
Yu seemed to treat his meetings like any other chore. He'd go for a few hours and come back to his dorm to either study or let Yosuke know where he's going like he'd always do. It felt like nothing much had really changed due to Yu's monstrous skill at scheduling, but just the idea of Yu going to that creep's home every week was enough to make Yosuke sick.  
  
    Usually, Yu would leave for these "meetings" (as he called them) during the morning. There was one day, however, where Yu had some business to take care of and seemingly rescheduled it. After he was finished with his duties, he went back to his dorm to check up on Yosuke.  
  
    "Why do you do that," Yosuke asked.  
  
    "Do what?"  
  
    "Come back just to tell me you're going to the gym."  
  
    Yu put a finger to his mouth thoughtfully, "I don't go to the gym too often, do I?"  
  
    Yosuke sighed, "No I mean... why do you just come back to tell me what you're doing. You're an adult, dude, do what you want."  
  
    Yu shrugged, "Well, sometimes you usually want to come with?"  
  
    "Then just text me or something."  
  
    "I don't really care for texting."  
  
    "Man, I don't know! Just do whatever."  
  
    Yu paused, staring at his friend, "You okay?"  
  
    "Sure."  
  
    "You've been kind of weird lately."  
  
    "You too."  
  
    "Huh," Yu turned to look into a mirror that was conveniently on the wall, "Have I?"  
  
    "Do you hate him?"  
  
    As predicted, Yu didn't answer.  
  
    "Say something," Yosuke pleaded.  
  
    Yu thought slowly and carefully before replying, "No."  
  
    Yosuke could only stare.  
  
    "I don't approve of his actions, either, don't misunderstand."  
  
    "How can you not hate him," Yosuke's voice was filled with exasperated disbelief, "Yu."  
  
    "I find him. Interesting. I guess," Yu said softly, "I think there is more to him than--"  
  
    "Who cares," Yosuke shouted, "don't sympathize with him!"  
  
    "Calm down, please. He's just... more human than--"  
  
    "And his victims? Weren't they human? Why is he so fucking special? Yu, he's garbage."  
  
    "He isn't," Yu's voice was firm and loud, a hint of anger appearing on his face.  
  
    Yosuke was silent in response. Yu shook his head as if to shake off any glint of emotion off his being.  
  
    "I'm... sorry I..." he trailed off, for the first time not really knowing what to say.  
  
    "Whatever."  
  
    "Yosuke..."  
  
    "I said whatever," Yosuke turned away from him to go lay down in his own bed.  
  
    Silence poisoned the air.  
  
    Not another word was spoken as Yu left the dorm-room. He didn't return that night, and Yosuke was silently thankful for that.  
  
    The heavy storm roared outside, filling the near-empty dorm with its vicious sounds.  
  
    Yosuke didn't sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

            Days melt together when you're alone, when you’re _really_ alone. Yesterday becomes equal parts today and tomorrow, no difference between Friday nor Sunday.

            Sleep, eat, work, eat, work, sleep.

            You sleepwalk your way through reality, in the purgatory between living your life and waiting to die. Like a skilled-yet-bored trapeze artist, you walk along the thin tightrope between heaven and hell, joy and boredom, life and death.

            It doesn’t matter to you, you just go on living because there is nothing else to do.

            But sometimes, only on the rarest of occasions under the rarest of circumstances, you wake up. You begin to see the world around you as though you’ve been reborn. With your new eyes, you see the world around you. The faces of those you pass on the street, the flowers petals that flow in the air, the fact that the sky is just so soul-crushingly blue that your heart can only stand to look at it for seconds at a time.

            For a moment, even if just for a moment, you relish in the world’s beauty. You finally feel excited to live and see tomorrow.

            You find yourself becoming excited to see that little dumb-ass that just won’t fucking leave your goddamn home for some reason.

            Narukami never asked to stay at Adachi’s apartment, but he stayed. For about three weeks now.

            Adachi was unsure what to make of it at first. The morning after the storm, Adachi had to leave for work. Yu was still asleep, and Adachi was unsure how to approach the matter of waking him up and forcing him out.

            He picked up his futon and repositioned the coffee table, all the while staring at the man who was peacefully sleeping on the couch. His silver locks were fluffed, his bangs just dusting over the bridge of his nose. The expression on his face matched the one he wore whenever he was a part of the waking world; totally and permanently neutral. The blankets Adachi had given him were covering every bit of the couch except for Yu himself. The shirt he wore seemed to have ridden up as he tossed and turned over the small bit of furniture in his rest. His pale navel exposed with his beautiful hand laying limp upon it. A thin patch of hair just lay beyond his fingertips-

            Adachi nearly dropped the coffee table and scrambled as quietly as he could to fix Yu’s blankets, covering the spot he was staring much to long at for his own comfort.

            It pissed him off a little, just at the sheer thought of how attractive Yu was. The realization of just how much Adachi was attracted to him was enough for him to resume getting ready for work and leaving the apartment as fast as possible before the red blush on his face became permanent, which it surely felt like it would.

            Yu had legs. Yu had nice long sexy legs. He could leave the apartment on his own. Adachi didn’t care if he stole everything, broke every expensive item, lit it on fire in the process. He just wanted to get out ASAP, that apartment belonged to Yu now. In the moment, he didn’t even think about going back, nope, it belonged to Yu and Yu alone now. As Adachi began his shift, he contemplated quitting that evening and taking the next train out of Bunkyo. Out of Tokyo, even. Japan as a whole? He’d grow out his hair, operate under a fake name, all of the like.

            But, once his eventually anxiety faded, he realized he liked his apartment. Very much, even! He wasn’t just going to let this guy waltz into his life and just woo him off his feet (even though that’s not what happened whatsoever), oh no. Adachi was going to push back, he would be absolutely _damned_ if he would allow this to go anywhere. The last thing he needed right now were “feelings”, after all.

            On his commute back, he walked with utmost determination. He was prepared to kick Yu out, evict him from his home and from his mind. He climbed up the stairs, mentally preparing himself for any given scenario. In t-minus ten, he was fully prepared. He was going to do it, finally, he was going to free himself. With a straight spine and a state of mind, he opened the door.

            “Heya, I’m making sukiyaki. It’s almost done.”

            Maybe it was best to keep him around, Adachi thought at that moment.

            They ate, they chatted, they watched some bogus TV show and went to bed only for Adachi to wake up and realize they were firmly grasping each other’s hand, yet again, in their sleep.

            Man, what _was_ this guy.

            And why does his stomach keep poking out whenever he sleeps? Adachi just wanted to slap it and force him awake just to chew him out about it.

            He didn’t, however, instead he just gingerly fixed his blankets with a sigh.

            This became the new routine. All of a sudden, it felt like they were living together. Adachi’s anxieties slowly lessened with each day, though he’d consider jumping a train out of town daily. After some time, the idea of coming home to Yu was immensely comforting.

            The city was so grey and dull just a few weeks ago, but now Adachi would take his time on his commute home. He’d notice the faces of those he passed on the busy streets, petals falling from the air with such ease and grace, and just how blue the sky was on most days. It almost hurt to watch it all happen, and his eyes never felt more wide open than they had before in such a long time, he even dared to hum on some days.

            There wasn’t a tightrope anymore. There was a wide open road ahead, and for the first time, Adachi was eager to walk along it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Missed me? Thought I jumped ship?  
> Updates should be back to snuff.


	13. Chapter 13

“So,” Adachi said between bites, “riddle me this.”

            “Riddle away,” Yu replied, his fingers peeling away a page of the textbook, his focus unmoving.

            “It’s been about four weeks now since…” Adachi waves his hand back and forth, mulling over what to say, “you’ve just stopped… leaving.”

            “I have been leaving,” Yu’s eyes still locked on the words within his textbook as he raised a mug to his lips. “I’ve been going to my classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I also have been doing some part-time jobs here and there—"

            “Yeah, I know,” Adachi interrupted, “that’s one of the things I’m concerned about, actually.”

            Yu’s gaze drifted from his work to Adachi’s eyes, he tilted his head, “Oh? How so?”

            “You leave whenever I’m still out. I have never once given you a spare key.”

            “This is true.”

            “That’s your response? ‘This is true’? You’re not… going to explain… how you have been getting in my locked apartment?”

            “Easy, I unlock it when I leave.”

            Adachi’s eyes widened, his mouth slightly agape as he took a moment to process what Yu had said, “So. You leave the apartment unlocked? It’s never locked anymore?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Why,” Adachi whispered, “why would you do that.”

            “Well, you never gave me a key.”

            “Well,” he mocked, “you never asked me permission to move in.”

            Yu only shrugged.

            Adachi sighed, “Okay that’s the next question, but first… what if someone breaks into the apartment? There is, like, this huge time frame where no one is here.”

            “Well it wouldn’t be a break-in, necessarily,” Yu smiled, humored, “it’d just be trespassing.”

            “Whatever, smart-ass,” he rolled his eyes. “What if that happens, then?”

            “I prepared for it.”

            “How so?”

            “The elderly lady next door, Dobashi-san,” he returned his stare to his textbook, “she’s been watching over the apartment whenever I go out.”

            “Asking an old hag to watch over an unlocked apartment doesn’t sound like a solid plan to me.”

            Yu took another sip from his mug, “on one of my past visits, I saw her take a guy out.”

            A blink, “define ‘take a guy out’.”

            “Beat the shit out of him,” the mug met the table with a soft click.

            “What… happened?”

            “I have no clue, really,” he flipped to a new page, “but she was good.”

            “This has to be a joke.”

            “It’s not, it’s real. Hey, your food will get cold.”

            With a soft huff, Adachi returned to his meal, “Okay, true or not, I still want to know what’s going on.”

            “Nothing.”

            “Bullshit,” he aimed his utensil at Yu, “something happened. Why the hell else would you just park your bags here of all places?”

            Yu didn’t reply, he continued reading as he lifted the mug to his lips once again.

            Adachi, annoyed by the other ignoring him, stretched his body over the table to tap Yu’s mug with his utensil, “just spill it.”

            “My coffee?”

            “ _No,_ idiot _._ Tell me what happened.”

            Yu closed his eyes and placed the mug back onto the table, “I like… to be far away from school whenever there is a break.”

            “C’mon kid,” Adachi shook his head, “that’s a sloppy lie. You not only just told me you have been going to classes,” he tapped the open text book with the heel of his palm, “you’re studying. You’re not on break.”

            Yu pursed his lips, caught, “I enjoy your presence?”

            “Is that a question?”

            “No?”

            With a small laugh, Adachi sat back in his seat, “That’s also a lie. It’s just a lie.”

            “Partial lie.”

            “I don’t believe that, but whatever. Tell me a zero-percent lie this time.”

            Yu tilted his head, “A what?”

            “A… y’know… a…” Adachi struggled, furrowing his brows before exclaiming, “Truth! Just tell me the truth!”

            Yu watched the table, his head in his hand. He sat there silently, chewing the inside of his lip for a moment. “I had a fight, I guess.”

            “You guess?”

            “No,” Yu shook his head, “I know. I know I did. With my roommate.”

            Adachi sighed, stretching his body against the back of his chair, “Happens.”

            “I guess,” Yu said quietly.

            An uncomfortable silence took hold of the room, the sound of clock being the only proof that time was passing. They both remained frozen in their positions, Yu’s face pensive as Adachi watched with his arms stretched behind his head.

            Once the blood in his arms began to feel old, he rose from his seat. He grabbed his dishes and peered over to see if Yu’s mug was empty, finding it just as such. He stacked each dish carefully on top one another and calmly walked towards the sink to rinse them out.

            The silence remained poison in the air. Adachi paused while scrubbing a plate to tap his fingers against the counter. He wanted to say something, he really did, but he had no idea how to even start. Seeing Yu like this was abnormal, it was like seeing a unicorn. Adachi could understand the exact things that Yu was feeling from just looking at his expression alone. It was an expression he’d see in the mirror millions of times before.

            Regret, self-hate, all the like. Adachi could feel it all within his own bones as he looked at Yu. He turned his head to look at him, he had still not moved a single muscle. With a gentle sigh, Adachi returned to his work.

            “Hey,” he said while battling a particularly stubborn spot on a dish, “fights happen. With everyone. They suck, but they’re part of life.” Though there was very little indication to assume such, he could feel Yu turn to face his back. “You and I have had a share of fights, too. They just… happen. People aren’t meant to get along all the time, if we were, shit’d get boring pretty quickly.”

            “I guess,” came a soft reply.

            “What matters most is that you get both parties to understand each other, though. Amends have to be made, thoughts have to be understood, and most of all people have to be willing to forgive,” he rubbed the cloth harder against the spot, “damn, how did this get baked into this plate?”

            “I really…” Yu trailed off.

            “Really what?”

            “… Don’t think I can fix this one.”

            Adachi lifted up the plate and squinted, eyeing the spot, “You’re roommate, he’s the bleached head kid, right?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Aren’t the two of you close, though? What happened?”

            Yu hesitated, “long story.”

            Adachi positioned the disk firmly at the bottom of the sink, belligerently scrubbing away at the plate, “Well… sometimes things can be rocky between your friends, y’know? But if you’re close enough and if you try to work it out with each other, it’ll get better.” With one harsh brush, the spot was finally removed, “ _There!_ ”

            Yu gave a breathless laugh at the exclamation, “That was… uncharacteristically kind of you to say, by the way.”

            “You’re gonna sass me for trying to help you out?”

            “No, no. That wasn’t what I meant,” Yu shook his head, “thank you, it was really nice hearing it from you.”

            “Well,” he said with a huff as he began to place the dishes into their appointed places, “take my advice for a grain of salt. It’s not like I have friends.”

            “You have me.”

            “Cute of you to consider me a friend.”

            A grin, “You also have Uncle Dojima.”

            Adachi laughed loudly and harshly, it caught Yu off-guard.

            “Was… I wrong to assume that,” he asked, genuinely worried he struck a nerve.

            “Eh… no, I guess not,” Adachi calmed down, leaning his back against the counter to face Yu, “it’s a weird friendship. He only seemed to like me whenever we drank together. Other than that, I was convinced he hated my guts.”

            Yu shook his head, “No, I know for sure he doesn’t hate you.”

            “Doesn’t really matter if he does or doesn’t,” he tapped his fingers against the counter, “I guess I would have considered it a friendship back then, it was… a weird time. Back then.”

            A stillness.

            “Adachi-san,” Yu decided to change subject, “there is something… I wanted to ask.”

            “Hm?” he replied softly, as if being snapped back into reality.

            “Did you actually stop drinking?”

            “I stopped drinking heavily.”

            “So, you still drink?”

            “Nowhere near as much as I used to, but yes,” he waved his hand, “a drink here and there, nothing more.”

            Yu frowned.

            “What?”

            “That’s a slippery slope waiting to happen, Adachi-san.”

            “C’mon,” he rolled his eyes, “it’s not an addiction. It never was.”

            Yu could only stare.

            “… That problem I had,” Adachi continued, “wasn’t addiction. It was just… boredom. I drank because I had literally nothing else to do.”

            “Oh?”

            “Yeah, I mean. Not like I have an extravagant social life or anything. I eat, I sleep, I work, I repeat. Things go by quicker if you piss away your free time with booze.”

            “So, you’re not bored anymore?”

            “Hard to be bored whenever you have someone force their way into your home and proceed to nag you all day and night,” Adachi chuckled, expecting Yu to follow in suit.

            “Sorry,” he replied, “I really shouldn’t be bothering you like this.”

            Adachi felt like he ran head-first into a break wall, “What?”

            Yu closed his textbook and stood, “This really was insensitive of me, forcing my way in like this. I’ll leave, sorry again.”

            Adachi watched as he picked up his textbook and began to gather his belongings. A part of him was glad that Yu finally saw how rude and intrusive his actions were, but… another part of him began to panic at the thought of him leaving. Once Yu had passed close enough, Adachi couldn’t help but firmly grab his arm. Yu stopped in his tracks, looking Adachi in the eye, expecting him to say something.

            He didn’t, he couldn’t. He had no idea what to say. In fact, the only thoughts that were in Adachi’s mind at that very moment were just voices screaming at him for even daring to grab Yu’s arm. The panic only worsened the more Yu looked him in the eye. He was so close, so close that Adachi could count his eyelashes and the ripples in his grey eyes.

            “Do you want me to leave,” Yu asked.

            Adachi’s mind was mush, “you can leave whenever you want.”

            “That wasn’t my question.”

            “It depends on you,” Adachi replied with a whisper.

            “Do you want me to leave.”

            He could only laugh awkwardly, “Wow, you’re so firm all of a sudden.”

            Yu didn’t move a muscle at the statement, he continued to stare until he received an answer. Adachi’s face fell neutral as he stared down at his hand that was still tightly gripping Yu’s arm.

            God, he didn’t know what he wanted, "It... doesn't matter if you stay or go to me. If you stay, that's fine. If you leave, things just go back to how they were."

            "Do you want things to go back to how they were?"

            Adachi paused, "C'mon, now... it's not that deep..."

            “If you want, I can get out of your hair forever.”

            Adachi shook his head, “You can’t do that. Your friends will throw a fit if you abandon that parole thing.”

            “It doesn’t have to be me.”

            Adachi froze at the thought, he as unsure as to why. Something about the statement bothered him.

            "It depends on you. If I’m bothering you, I will leave.”

            Adachi closed his eyes tight as he ran his other hand through his own hair, “why are you saying that.”

            “Hm?”

            “Just!” Adachi’s eyes opened wide as he tightened his fist around his hair, “Why do you keep doing that? Asking how I feel? Asking what I want? My say-so shouldn’t mean jack shit to you and you know that!” His hand tightened around Yu’s arm, “I am _scum_ , Yu. I am the last fucking person you need to be dealing with right now. All this shit? Treating me like a friend? Treating me like one of your own? It’s all fucking stupid! Why the hell are you—”

            Suddenly, he couldn’t talk. His lips couldn’t move. Something was in the way, something was putting all it’s pressure onto his lips that it felt as though his teeth were just about to bust through. There was also something firmly grasping the sides of his face…

            It took him a lot longer than it should have to realize he was being kissed. The screaming in his head sounded foreign suddenly, the world around him was blurring as he noticed just how soft Yu’s lips are… and he only truly noticed how much he didn’t want the kiss to stop until Yu began to pull away. In defiance, he moved his hands to the sides of Yu’s face and finally returned the kiss with just as much urgency as before.

            As if he were a starving man who had just been given a feast, he didn’t want it to end. The kiss intoxicated him, he wanted more and more. The kiss got slower and slower, following a steady, silent rhythm. His tongue traced Yu’s lips, begging them to part open, whenever Yu placed his palm onto Adachi’s chest to gently push him away.

            Their lips parted, but their faces were still close, their heavy breath still mixed as their foreheads were touching. The concept of thought was slowly making its way back into Adachi’s head, and the first words he could muster was, “That is the dumbest thing you have ever done.”

            “Probably,” Yu admitted just as breathlessly.

            Adachi slowly ran his hand down Yu’s forearm, his breath shaking whenever he felt Yu return the touch.

            They stood there for quite some time, the ticking of the clock felt as though it were in another realm of existence.

            “No,” Adachi said.

            Yu hummed, questioning.

            “I don’t want you to leave.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is NSFW.

            This felt weird.

            Super weird.

            There were no words that Adachi could even think of that could express just how weird and unexpected this current situation was to him. He wasn’t necessarily opposed to it, quite the opposite, but there was a strange feeling deep down in his gut about the entire scenario that would just not settle down.

            Part of it, probably, was due to the fact that he didn’t know what “this” was. A relationship thing? A “friends with benefits” thing? A… nothing?

            Thinking about it made his brain hurt, that of which he didn’t care for. He couldn’t just ignore it though, that wasn’t easy. His thoughts would race; What were he and Yu now? It’d been about a month since they first kissed, which not only happened too fast on its own, but everything seemed to rush its way along like eager dominoes falling one after another. Maybe thinking was a bad idea, he thought, maybe he should instead just go with the flow instead.

            But the feeling in his stomach never calmed down. It didn’t die whenever he kissed Yu, and it didn’t die whenever he’d feel Yu’s arms tighten around him, and it didn’t die whenever he would fall asleep against his chest. Worst of all, and the most annoying of all, it seemed to amplify whenever he’d fuck Yu.

            And good god, the feeling was at it’s worst whenever he’d fuck him.

            On the late nights in which he was kept up with his own thoughts, he’d try to figure out why he felt so sick all the time. Maybe he wasn’t used to the attention, it had been over 10 years since he last had a relationship of any kind (a statement that made him feel extremely old upon realizing). Maybe he felt he was under-deserving of anything pleasant, so his mind was trying to punish him over it. Or maybe… things were just going way too fast. All of these seemed like likely candidates for the cause of his ailment, but the latter being the most likely poison.

            But he wasn’t necessarily opposed to this, either. The speed in which things were going. It did make him feel sick, but it also energized him.

            Sex was nice.

            Very nice.

            Even though he was having it with a guy, which is something he never genuinely expected. That felt even nicer for some reason.

            His gut just needed to shut up and realize that, he thought to himself.

            He didn’t have impressive prior experience, he hardly had any at all. He wasn’t popular in anyway at any moment in his waking life. He had a girlfriend once whenever he was fresh out of the academy, but that didn’t really work out well.

            He wouldn’t lie, the thought of her still kind of pissed him off… but that was beside the point.

            Yu was lovely. Yu knew the right places to touch, to kiss, to suck. He was probably way more experienced than Adachi, more than probably actually. He couldn’t help but wonder how much Yu got around. The thought, however, also intimidated him greatly… so he’d dismiss it quite firmly.

            He didn’t want to think about Yu doing this to anyone else but him. Only him.

            It was interesting how Yu let him top. Despite the obvious differences in experience, the positions seemed to have worked out well. Just the thought of Yu under him, gasping and moaning at each thrust railed into him as his fingers would entwine themselves in the disheveled sheets, clinching harder with each soft slap of sweaty skin was just enough to drive Adachi wild. The typically stoic face of Yu but flushed and twisting in desire was the seasoning, the garnish to the entire dish. Adachi was almost proud of himself, finally giving Yu reason to wear his feelings on his face.

            The only issue was how loud he was, though. Even whenever he was holding back as much as possible, his soft gasps and moans would engulf the room. The more excited he got, the louder he became and the more his mouth became familiar with Adachi’s palm trying to silence him.

            Walls are thin, especially in this damn county. Adachi was kept up late enough from the neighbors above him who have at it every other night, and he’d be damned to contribute to that chaos. (Though, admittingly, sex is much like yawning and hearing said neighbors often lead to him and Yu following suit.)

            He’d also be damned to have that old lady hear it all, as well. He thought this when he’d place his palm roughly over Yu’s mouth whenever his moaning become to much as well as when Adachi’d bite the side of his own thumb whenever he felt as though his own moaning became too much.

            They both could be pretty loud, actually. Adachi was less likely to admit to his own volume, however.

            It kinda sucked.

            Occasionally Yu would suggest going to a hotel. To each time Adachi would reject the proposal under the sole excuse of them being too weird. He had spent more nights than he’d like to admit crashing at love hotels. Alone. With little or no choice in the matter due to mixed up reservations or poor planning.

            And man, those places are more akin to private fair-grounds than any sort of hotel room. He just couldn’t imagine actually renting one out for its intended purpose. Keeping as quiet as a mouse during sex wasn’t too great, but the alternative was much too goofy for him to take seriously.

            Sex was nice.

            But starting to become a bit too… much.

            Three months into they’re “whatever”, as Adachi silently referred to their relationship, it was starting to become the only thing they’d do together. They’d wake up, fuck maybe, get ready for their day, leave for a few hours, come back, fuck, eat, then repeat the cycle.

            There started to be less and less banter between the two, their bodies seemed to do more of the talking at that point. At first, this was great. It felt freeing, having someone and being able to do as you wished with them! It was an intoxicating time for the both of them, but sometimes there can be way too much of a nice thing.

            Sex was nice.

            But Adachi was starting to get sick of it.

            Actual talking seemed to have become tough. Maybe they forgot the tongue amidst their enthusiastic body language? Whatever it was, it sucked.

            Adachi would lay down along his couch, tapping his fingers along the glass of the coffee table as his mind dissociated as his eyes looked at the unengaging television. Yu would be just feet away, scribbling his pen over paper. Perhaps he was studying, or maybe he was doing part-time work? Adachi didn’t know.

            He found it hard to really care.

            The feeling in his stomach never left, it still stagnated in the very bottom of his stomach. Maybe it felt worse? Stronger? He didn’t really know, he had become used to it, embraced it even. The bad feeling was a part of him, it didn’t just show up three months ago. It was always there, and it’d never go away.

            Bored, he took a swig from a water bottle.

            The warm and familiar taste burned the back of his throat.


End file.
